


I Loved Him First

by EmeraldSage



Series: Song Inspired Fics [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, England's POV, England's Perspective, FACE Family, Father-Son Relationship, M/M, Reflection, Reminicing, RusAme, Watching Your Kid get Married, Wedding Fluff, getting married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 02:00:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10426695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldSage/pseuds/EmeraldSage
Summary: Alfred's getting married, and Arthur still can't believe that his little boy's grown up so much.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song "I Loved Her First," by Heartland. Also, let me be a ball of fluff, because apparently, this is going to be a recurring thing. Damn it.

            The pop of a champagne bottle echoed in the hall, despite the rowdy laughter that chorused through the space and filled every heart with warmth. It was a snowy December night, and everyone out was huddled amongst the bars and the pubs, seeking a reprieve from winter’s delights. The merrymaking in the area was at an all time high, with Christmas on its way and the New Year following with swift steps, bringing with it the new hope of opportunities that came only once a year. It was a constant cycle of joy; a palpable aura of happiness and good cheer that bathed the area with its glory every year.

            This year, there was something more.

            He could see him laughing, joy suffusing every inch of his face as he practically danced across the pub. He wrapped his arms around friends in greeting, pressing close as they turned and shouted their congratulations with blatant delight and easy teasing. His cousins nearby were teasing him; the uncles watching the scene play out with fond delight. Blue eyes gleamed warmly in the pub’s dim lighting, and he felt his heart constrict when they landed on their violet-eyed counterparts and lit up like a solstice dawn.

            He watched the golden-haired boy – he’d always be a boy to him, no matter that he stood taller than him now, broader and stronger and oh _lord_ so beautiful in a way he could never be – wrap his arms around the broad shoulders of the pale haired, violet-eyed man and slid laughing lips against the other’s own quietly smiling ones. It was hard to watch; hard to see the love in every inch of their bodies as they connected so close. It was hard to see how the bonnie blue-eyed boy he’d known melted into the embrace of someone else.

_“Dad?” a voice drew him out of his contemplation, and he glanced up from his paperwork to see his youngest son on standing hesitantly in the doorway. It struck him as odd for a moment – he’d never thought Alfred capable of hesitating over **anything** , to be quite frank – but he felt a warm smile lift his lips. Despite how they’d last parted – angry, enraged, estranged – he always loved to see his son. _

_“Alfred,” he said, and rose from his seat, noting how his blue-eyed child fidgeted at the motion, “I wasn’t aware you were coming to visit.”_

_“Ah,” he mumbled, “It was kidna spur of the moment,” he said and Arthur felt his brows furrowing in confusion._

_“Kind of,” he enunciated clearly, and his lips twitched when Alfred made a face at the grammar correction, “Is there something you wanted to tell me, poppet?”_

_“I,” he bit his lip, and Arthur was suddenly overwhelmed with the odd sense of foreboding that washed over him, “I – do you remember…when I told you I was dating someone?”_

_It felt as though an ice cube had slid into the depths of his heart and radiating its cold, chilly poison outwards through his veins. “Yes,” he responded, a bit dryly, “I recall you mentioned it a few years ago. But I haven’t heard anything more since then, I’d presumed it hadn’t worked out.”_

_Alfred looked almost embarrassed, that was…interesting, even if it made his heart race because he had a vague idea of where this was going, “Not…exactly. Dad – Daddy,” he took a deep breath, and that was okay – Arthur needed that moment as well, “I wanted you to meet my partner, Ivan.”_

_And even before the other man – three years older than his beautiful little boy, wasn’t that three years too much? – stepped out to introduce himself that night at dinner, fidgeting almost unnoticeably with his pale scarf until Alfred tugged him close, weaving their fingers together under the table, crossing their ankles together unseen…he’d known._

            The room was crowded, even though there were only a handful of them there. Francine had delegated the task of making sure Alfred wasn’t going to look like a fool on his wedding day to Matthew, who she apparently trusted more than her own husband (rightly so, he would later think, when he recalled his reaction). Alistair had insisted on being there, as he’d been the one going out with Alfred and hunting down all the things they’d needed for the wedding. Arthur was bitterly jealous that he couldn’t be the one doing that, but there were consequences to being head of the household despite being the youngest of his generation.

            But even with only the three of them there, there was an anxiousness that seemed to overlay them all. Until Alfred came out at least, and then anxiety wasn’t the emotion in the air anymore.

            “You look stunning,” he heard Matthew say after a moment of shocked pause, as Alfred stood before them nervously, toying with the cuffs of his suit. He would’ve agreed – oh, there was no room for contradiction, anything of the sort would be a blatant lie – but he was just standing there, completely and utterly stunned.

            God, who was this boy – this beautiful young man, who’d stolen his boy’s face and was watching them anxiously with his boy’s bonnie blue eyes? When had his little boy grown so much?

            _“Story, daddy!” his son’s voice rang through the hallways, and he could hear the soft chuckles of the servants moving to finish the evening tasks in Kirkland Hall before night fully fell. “You promised another story, Daddy! One with dragons!”_

_He looked into that stubborn little face that made him smile so, freckles splashed across the bridge of his little nose from all the time spent playing in the sun. Blue eyes were set in a glare that resembled a pouting kitten more than it did an upset child._

_“Another story, boy?” he laughed, and his son’s pout only grew. “Whenever are you going to go to sleep then, darling heart? I might have to call the faeries to come and cast to beckon your dreams.”_

_“Noooooo, daaady!” he whined, squealing when Arthur lifted him up clear from his bed into his arms and swirled him around, before bursting into joyful laughter. As if his father was the best person in the world who could dance with him._

_“Story! Daddy, read me another story!”_

            The music crooning through the speakers was soft, silky, and he could see his son’s smile, beaming as it was, trembling under the emotions. He saw the way the younger blond leaned into the other’s leading grip – and hadn’t that been an argument, who’d get to lead in this particular dance – smiling beautifully like he’d just been given everything he’d ever wanted.

            And, in some ways…he had.

            Watching them twirl and waltz across the dance floor, pristine in their suits and those smiles glowing on their faces…like nothing in the world was as important as the being in front of them. It was like watching something intimate; like these two were taking their first dance alone, dancing and twirling and swirling amongst the stars they loved so much, twining with each other as cosmic energy danced around them, weaving into their smiles and their loving eyes as they moved. Watching them almost felt like an intrusion, but he had to watch; he had to know.

            And when the dance finally finished, and his son-in-law passed his son to him, he held his little boy close. It almost didn’t matter that Alfred stood an inch or so taller than him, or that his boy still whined about being grown up, no need for tackle hugs or quiet family nights curled together by the fire.

            _Married_ , his boy was married, and smiling, and crying, and oh _so_ _happy_ in a way Arthur knew he’d never be able to make his child happy, and that hurt. But he’d _known_ that this day would come, had wanted it, hoped for it, for his son’s happiness. Only, he hadn’t known how hard this would be…to let someone else wrap their arms around his baby boy, let them love him in a way Arthur could not.

            “My baby,” he murmured softly, watching as Alfred’s eyes softened, and on the last turn of their dance he was wrapped in a hug that was almost too tight, only he refused to want to let go. “Congratulations, my darling,” he whispered, and he could feel the edge of the tears in his son’s eyes before the younger pulled back and smiled.

            And that look in his eyes, the smile on his face could’ve outshone the sun, and Arthur would argue anyone who dared to say a thing to contradict it.

            _“Arthur Kirkland?” the whole Kirkland clan in the waiting room looked up simultaneously, and the nurse flushed at all the anxious looking green eyes suddenly on her. Arthur stood from where he’d been wallowing ever since they’d kicked him out of the hospital room, his legs shaky, and he was mildly grateful that Alistair let himself be used as a pseudo crutch without a word as he was shoved to the forefront of the clan._

_“That’s me,” he said, and his voice was hoarse and nervous, which was probably making things worse. He felt Matthew press up against his leg, wrapping his small arms around him from his side, where he’d pushed through the rest of the clan to come close, and he cleared his throat. He had to be strong right now, “Has something…happened?”_

_But even strength couldn’t help the way his voice cracked on the last word._

_The nurse studied him for a moment, even as the whole clan shifted nervously around them, before she smiled._

_“Congratulations, Mr. Kirkland,” she said warmly, “It’s a baby boy.”_

_It felt like a rush, being ushered into his wife’s hospital room. He could barely remember being shoved into a pair of scrubs, before being dragged into the room by his surprisingly active toddler, followed by a set of nurses and his amused looking brothers. His wife was smirking at his dazed expression, a smirk that melted into undeniable adoration when her gaze slid down to the bundle in her arms._

_The moment that bundle was shifted into his arms, a soft gurgle sounded, and his heart melted away into a puddle of goo._

_“What should we name him?” his wife asked him, smiling when she noticed that her husband’s entire focus was on the beautiful little life in his arms. She was almost sure he hadn’t heard her, but he had. He just wasn’t sure what to say. His wife had named Matthew, and though they’d looked for months for the perfect name for their second born…he couldn’t think of a single thing that would suit his little one so. He brushed the downy mop of copper-bronze atop his little head, knowing it would lighten as the little one grew, and smiled at the curious little face staring at him with astounding concentration for a newborn._

_Those beautiful little blue eyes blinked up at him innocently, his arms flailing around in the confines of his swaddling blanket, gurgling contentedly and he curled him closer to drop a warm kiss to the little one’s forehead._

_A flailing arm wacked him around his head, and a strong, fierce grip locked on some of his hair, yanking it with astonishing strength. He bit back a yelp, and he could hear his brothers erupt into a roar of laugher behind him._

_“That’s a mighty grip you’ve got there, darling,” he murmured softly, shifting his grip on the babe to reach back and disentangle that strong grip from his hair, making note not to give his little mischief-maker that particular opportunity again. “You’re going to grow up strong, aren’t you?”_

_“He’s going to be a great little brother,” he heard Matthew proclaim from where his eldest had cuddled up against his wife, and he glanced up to meet enchanted sunset eyes locked on the bundle in his arms. His wife chuckled warmly and stroked Matthew’s lemon-blond hair as she curled him close, even tired as she was._

_Great…_

_“Fierce, mighty, and great indeed,” he chuckled, and fell a little more in love with the way blue eyes seemed to concentrate so fiercely on him with every word he spoke, “What do you think of Alfred, darling heart?” A destiny as great, as wondrous as Alfred the Great to lay over his baby…and give him good will, good luck, and good fortune._

_That small, wrinkly, beautiful little face smiled at him, and nothing in the world could have swayed him away from where he was in that moment. He silently basked in the knowledge that this little being in his arms – with ten fingers, ten toes, strong lungs, a fierce grip, and intelligent blue eyes that could put the sky to shame – was **his**._

_Even if he’d long since lost his heart to the little miracle smiling up at him, he’d treasure that his little one would always be his first._

_“Happy birthday, Alfred,” he murmured softly as the infant yawned tiredly and snuggled into his shoulder, and he couldn’t even feel the warmth of the tears as they dripped down his face._

* * *

 

_“I loved her first  
_ _I held her first  
_ _And a place in my heart will always be hers  
_ _From the first breath she breathed  
_ _When she first smiled at me  
_ _I knew the love of a father runs deep  
_ _And I prayed that she'd find you someday  
_ _But it's still hard to give her away  
_ _I loved her first”_

_\- “I loved her first,” by Heartland_


End file.
